


Maraudering Matters

by whysosiriusumbridge



Series: Maraudering Matters [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Avengers Family, Coffee Shops, Crossover, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/F, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Harry is a Good Friend, Harry is a Little Shit, How Do I Tag, M/M, MCU AU Fest, Marvel Universe, Mash-up, Original Character(s), Pre-Iron Man 1, Steve Rogers Feels, Tags Are Hard, The Avengers Need a Hug, Tony Is Not Helping, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 07:53:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15725154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whysosiriusumbridge/pseuds/whysosiriusumbridge
Summary: In hindsight, Harry had not expected Maraudering Matters to actually matter that much. It was just an experiment to try to get his life back in line after his past, after the decisions he had made - now all he was left with was pictures and memories and no pensieve - 'And the coffeehouse. Don't forget the goddamn coffeehouse.'





	1. How It Started to Matter

_**Music Recommendation: Paranoid by Black Sabbath** _

* * *

Harry had never liked Justin Finch-Fletchley much since his second year. They had not even spoken much in later years, but two months after the War had ended, they had met at that memorable gala. The one with 'Hey, they're giving us Order of Merlins!' and 'Hey, is that Malfoy and Granger?!' and 'Hey, one of our classmates came out of hiding!'. The classmate had of course, been Justin.

Harry had almost accidentaly ran into Justin that day – he was trying to escape Skeeter if he remembered correctly – and Justin had talked to him like they had been best friends before the War. As much as Harry had grown to hate that kind of behaviour, Justin's was a pleasant distraction because of the circumstance.

That conversation was why he remembered that Justin's father lived in California and was a police officer, and that was where Justin and his mother had gone for hiding. His parents had decided to live together again so he was going to spend some time in America itself, leaving the Wizarding World behind after that last gala.

So when the time came to finally make his move – after all the lies were told and the false trails were laid – Harry had contacted Justin at once. He was, after all, the only person he actually knew well who lived in the States. There were others but they were rather…  _supernatural_  in nature, so he had avoided disturbing them.

Justin's family was welcoming, and not only that, they were co-operative as well. They never mentioned to anyone that he was living with them, for the two months that he did, trying to figure out his life after the big move.

Justin's grandfather had been a respected soldier during the World War ll – part of a group called 'The Howling Commandos'. They had apparently been very active in the War and operated under Steve Rodgers or Cap, as Justin and his father called him. Harry to search about 'Cap' later on, only to find that it was none other than Captain America – the super soldier. James Falsworth was an esteemed part of the Captain's team and it was one of the reasons why Justin's family had a small amount of military funding.

His father Admon Falsworth, or Flinch, as everyone called him, was a very calm and collected man, though he had the air of a man too tired for his years. Sometimes, Harry felt like there was more to the man than meets the eye, but his doubts were glossed over due to the man's gentle nature. He worked quite diligently, never missing a day and always leaving and reaching home on time.

Mrs. Falsworth was also a generous host to him, if a bit arrogant at times. Most of the times, she almost forgot he was  _Harry Potter_ , and sang praises of how her son would soon get quite high up in the American Ministry if he kept working hard. The fact that she forgot about him while praising her son was more endearing than irritating, and it bothered him greatly that there was a lump in his throat every time that happened - it reminded him of Mrs. Weasley in fifth year – calling him her son.

He was still unsure about his decision to leave – half his stuff was still unpacked, even when he moved two months later. He had only opened trunks he needed to use daily – clothes, broom and books. Every other belonging and bag he had packed half of Grimmauld Place in, was sitting unused and unopened, taunting him about his decision.

There were nights that he lay awake – thinking what they would be doing now? How soon would they realise the trail was fake and what was actually going on? Ron and Hermione already knew, and so did Kingsley, to an extent – would they have told the others? He hadn't even said a proper goodbye. Mrs. Weasley would hate him, but Ginny - Ginny would  _kill_  him. Even so, that he could handle - it was Hermione to whom he had said unthinkable things. In the the end though - he always soothed himself with the thought that it would probably be best if she hated him.

He stayed with the Falsworths for two months – exploring California, looking for a job in the muggle world. He grew close to Justin during that period, along with his father. They were good people and he was sorry to say goodbye to the family when he finally decided to move out. After two months of researching and basically realising that he was worth nothing in the muggle world without a valid degree or knowledge, Harry decided to do the only thing he knew best about the muggle culture – cook.

Kingsley was probably tracking his bank transactions so he would find out pretty soon that he had bought two properties – one in a marketplace just outside Santa Monica and the other in a secluded place off the Coast highway. The house he had bought was somewhat old and rotting, surrounded by a garden on all four sides. Harry had a hunch that the house was magical - at least the various plants in the back garden indicated so. He spent a month in the old house he had bought – setting up things, finally unpacking everything. By the time he was done, the house looked pretty thoroughly Potter – like he had been living there the whole time.

The living room was decorated with pictures he had brought from home. The fireplace had a huge photograph of the Weasley family over it – the one from Egypt, the one with Pettigrew. But Harry didn't care – Fred was in it. On top of the fireplace were pictures of everyone from that one gala where everyone wanted to look their best to receive their Orders of Merlin. It was the only time he remembered Luna dressing like a normal person. There were pictures of everyone separated – Harry and Ron, Harry and Hermione, Hermione and Ginny, Harry and Ginny, Ginny, Ron and Hermione, George, Harry and Ron with Mrs. Weasely, etc. There were about fifty of these and the whole living room walls were covered with them from top to bottom.

The sofas were a plush Gryffindor red, the carpet a pretty bronze. He didn't care if his interior decoration hurt others' eyes – he wanted the house to look as much like his old home, or Hogwarts, as possible. The table placed in the centre was an ancient one, but it held a compartment for books and coasters underneath it – so Harry liked it quite very much. There were two sets of sofas on each side of the long table, along with armchairs, mismatched cushions and beanbags thrust in between them. One side ended with the fireplace and the other with a huge LED and speakers. TV had been one of the muggle things Harry was still very fond of.

Harry had to install thin wooden separators so that the kitchen was hidden from view of the living room, in case he ever had a guest. The kitchen was almost the same size as the living room, so he had to move the Wine Cellar next to a window just next to the entrance, to make space for his experiments. For a month Harry practised with various foods, baked goods and drinks mostly, to see how he could merge magical ingredients into muggle ones and create new recipes and food products. The kitchen got burned down twice, the oven blew up five times within two months and in the end, Harry had to cast several wards around the kitchen itself to protect the rest of the house. There was a cupboard in the kitchen, running from ceiling to floor, that held all his experiments with food and everything that he had discovered. It had a few strong charms on it that would prevent it from harm in every possible scenario, he was proud of it.

A door to the right of the kitchen led to a rather small guest room, attached with a glorious bath – one that Harry sometimes preferred to use instead of his personal one. The bathroom was designed like a forest – he didn't know where the owner had gotten that idea but it made the place look like heaven. The bath tub was surrounded by plants and a mirror on one wall, one that gave the room an amazing structure. The dressing room attached to it held all of Harry's old clothes – robes, dress robes, school robes, quidditch robes, quidditch gear, and even his new Firebolt 2000.

The cupboard in the kitchen covered a small door that lead to the basement – it had been a gym but Harry had converted it into a defence practice room. Everything important that was useful to him during the War was stored there. The basement was also sealed with all the protection spells Harry could think of because the material inside it requisitioned such care - there were the books on Hocruxes, the two Hocruxes, even the replica of the Sword of Gryffindor Malfoy had later provided him with. All other sentimental artifacts he had relating to the war there too – the Marauders' Map, Sirius' mirror's shard, along with the other mirror Aberforth had later given to him, seeing no use in keeping it – even his beloved old Firebolt, which he had recovered from Dudley two years after the War. Sirius' bike lay there unused as well (even though it was repaired and working, thanks to Mr. Weasley) and the only thing Harry kept on him was the Invisiblity Cloak.

It was upstairs in his bedroom, which could be accessed from the spiral staircase that stood next to the entrance to the left. Just because he could, only and  _only_  because he could – Harry had a slide to come down from. Because he  _could_.

The bedroom covered the complete upper floor – it was mostly empty – except for the half library that formed the other half of the floor. Harry had knowingly packed half the Black and Potter Library with him, simply so that Hermione couldn't research on  _that_  topic. His bedroom was a pseudo library for all of those books, and the bathroom and closet covered rest of the half. The bed was a pretty large one – thrust up next to the window, with two armchairs and a desk on the other side of it. The floor was always strewn with papers, books, quills, clothes and even some wayward potion ingredients. He could hardly see the green carpet that was supposed to be there. The rest of his potions equipment was stored in the kitchen, and he had already brewed some, in case of emergency, and stored them in the basement.

The walls of the bedroom were covered with pictures from his Hogwarts years, from the summer holidays to the snows in Hogsmeade, and to every picture in Hagrid's album, which he had soon made multiple copies of. There was even a picture of the Dursleys there somewhere near the bottom, and also the one with the old Order of The Pheonix.

The setting up of his shop took less time than he had anticipated - but it had turned out perfect. The walls were painted a happy purple, with pictures of many of his desserts and biscuits and shakes he had taken himself, decorated on the walls. The counter was up on one side of the wall and a narrow hallway led to to storage rooms. A rickety staircase led to his small office upstairs - a small room which he used to keep the paperwork. There was a spacious bathroom attached upstairs, and since Harry had always hated public restrooms - hell, he had hated public places - so he had tried to make his place look the best and homeliest he were mostly beanbags and armchairs around settees with a large number of cushions all over the place. There were only five tables in the place, for those who wanted to work, however, there were no proper chairs.

It was comparatively quite small, but it was also on the busiest roads of California, one that ran to the outskirts of LA so he expected his business to flourish well. As a matter of fact, his house was on the same highway so it was a pretty good spot to work at. He had to spend the second month doing job interviews and looking for potential candidates to work in his little setup. He finally hired a pretty brunette called Caramel Hardon, as his second in command – which was code for the fact that she would look at accounts and everything managerial for him, while he cooked his way through the restaurant. He had high demands in the moral section for whoever worked for him - no matter the qualification. But the rest of the staff turned out to be pretty easy to get a hold of with Caramel's help – she reminded him of Hermione with that trait. Sometimes it scared him how similar their bossy tone of voice was, so he decided to maintain his distance. He couldn't afford to have a normal relationship with any of them anyway.

As the second month of his preparations came to a close, the tenth month of the year 2007 in general, his anticipation grew. This cafe idea was completely a shot in the dark. It didn't matter that he could survive seven generations' worth with the money he currently owned – eventually, seven generations would pass and he would need to earn more.

Sooner than he wanted, the first of November arrived, his first day of business. Time to open The Maraudering Matters. (It was Caramel's idea… partly.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, I know it's an overused theme but... is no one curious why Harry started over? Or more importantly what exactly did he do at home?
> 
> I promise that this will be different, and will actually go more than three chapter ahead as I have it all planned already. Chapters will be longer than this though. Much longer. And definitely much more dialogue. Sorry about the lack of that.
> 
> So, review please? What's the opening verdict?


	2. It's A Mess of A Day

_**Music Recommendation: Smells Like Teen Spirit by Nirvana** _

* * *

"Double, double, toil and trouble, Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.

Double, double, toil and trouble, Something wicked this way comes!"

Harry's eye twitched from beneath the thin sheet as he made out the loud and unneccesarily shrill tune of his alarm go off from somewhere around the room. He had just cracked open an eye to the slight brightness in the room, when the obnoxious song burst through his head again, almost tearing apart his eardrums, and making him squeeze his eyes shut.

"Eye of newt, and toe of frog, wool of bat, and tongue of dog,

Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting, lizard's leg, and owlet's wing."

As soon as the singing stopped, Harry groaned through his post sleep haze and scrambled off the bed haphazardly, trying to find the migraine inducing alarm clock before the singing could start again. Since he was still squinting through the room, with feet tangled in the sheets, it was not long before he flailed to the ground, hitting his chin on the floorboard, as the song burst next to his right ear suddenly.

"Double, double, toil and trouble, Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.

Double, double, toil and trouble, Fire burn and cauldron bubble!"

The singing was so loud and sudden that Harry had jerked away from the noise quickly, only to hit his head on the side of the armchair. It was with loud swears of Merlin's bollocks that he shut the unbreakable alarm clock that Colin had gifted him on his 19th birthday. Rubbing his head with one hand and eyes with the other, and after throwing the alarm carelessly towards the direction of the chair, Harry untangled his feet and made his way to the bathroom.

After brushing sleepily while 'Double Trouble' continued in the background, (since the alarm was bewitched to sing slowly and in a respectable voice once a slew of swear words had been said), Harry proceeded to undress for his shower.

"Yer scar's particularly red t'day kid. You be needin' makeup fer that. Like the poof ye'r." The mirror said nastily, but Harry ignored it like everyday, checking the scar for good measure. It was rather red and when Harry touched it, he realised it was aching and there was a small bump under it. "What the.." Harry pushed off the bangs and observed uneasily as the yellowish light of the bulb reflected off the swollen egg type thing on his forehead. That's when he realised - he had hit his head on the armchair. Relief washed over him, but he still couldn't shake the feeling of something being wrong - the feeling that was a reflex from whenever his scar had hurt in the past.

Slightly flattening the hair as he watched himself, and ignoring the mirror sniggering at his attempts, he decided that he would have to avoid the comb for today and just make sure the scar was covered. Even if it was at the cost of having a bird's nest for hair for the whole day.

* * *

Harry sang at the top of his voice, completely off tune, as the alarm sang with him, balanced precariously over some potatoes. He lazily waved his wand towards the kettle, which started gurgling lowly, then placed it back in his jeans pocket. He had always preffered to do his cooking magic free - as it was one of the things that helped him relate to the non-magical lifestyle.

Sucking some custard off his thumb, Harry turned towards the TV, where a reporter was relating the morning's broadcast. "Irish Prime Minister, Bertie Ahern, who is under investigation for allegedly accepting a bribe in the early 1990s when he was finance minister, yesterday said that he will step down in May. Ahern..." Well, that was nothing interesting.

Harry flicked through the TV for another half an hour or so - TV was still his main source for all news and he had to make sure he didn't miss anything important. While other people these days had started using mobile phones for news and basically all other activities, Harry couldn't do so. He cast a forlorn look towards his phone - the one that had survived all these years, strangely, was the one Seamus had given him - it was lying silent and innocent on the table.

Harry attributed the survival of this phone mostly to the fact that he treated it with utmost care - he had voice command active for everything so he didn't have to go near it much. The ringtone was so ridiculously loud that his whole staff always heard it, and also hated it. While sleeping, he left it in the bathroom, so that it would be protected from any accidental residual magic because of his nightmares. The main reason he took extra care of it was also that now he knew that he had no one else to request a new phone from, that would work well with his magical tuning. Hell, that would work with his magic at all.

* * *

His ringtone vibrated from somewhere behind him, as Harry hardly heard anything beside the screeching lyrics. He was driving down the highway on Sirius' bike at a breakneck speed, and since he was late, he did not dare to slow down or stop to check who was calling him. It was probably Caramel, wondering if he had left, or to order him to bring some ingredient or the other from the house.

He chose to avoid the call and sing along the Wierd Sisters' song - Can You Dance like a Hyppogriff, a band who peculiarly consisted of guys. If Caramel wanted him to bring something, he would happily make a trip back - he loved riding the motorcycle. The only thing he would ever ride, apparently, according to Clark, one of his older employees, if he kept avoiding all females like the plague. The college boy had often invited over lots of his friends to meet him, and Harry had only realized that they were a joint effort to set him up when Caramel had lost it one day and started laughing hysterically in his face. He had just commented that Robbie was a nice chap, who would maybe agree to teach him a thing or two about properly riding a bike.

Jon, Caramel's cousin, also worked for him, hated ogres, as he had had an unfortunate incident with a rather ugly shaped stone that his brother had convinced him was Shrek turned to stone. He was told that whoever touched it would turn green and ugly, and when his brother had thrown the stone at him, poor Jon had spent a whole day crying, thinking that he had turned into an ogre. Jon was only sixteen now, and he was a dab hand at muffins - it was almost like he had magic. Even though he had good reason to hate Shrek, everyone loved to tease him about it, as he was the youngest of them all.

By the time Harry reached MMs, the tune was unfortunately drilled into his brain, and he was humming it when he entered the cafe at 7:30.

"WHERE THE  _HELL_  HAVE YOU BEEN?" Caramel shouted from somewhere under the counter, as one of the guys, Jade, caught Harry's keys and jacket and ran to hang them upstairs in his small office.

"Stop with tune Specko. It's a bad day." Clark whispered, throwing him a look as he wiped down the tables and dusted the furniture. He was setting the furniture in a new way again today, trying as usual to make as much space to move around as possible.

"I'm on time, what the hell is wrong now?" Harry said, annoyed, as he came to halt at the counter. Caramel emerged from underneath, red in the face and blonde hair flying every which way. She looked particularly dangerous as she frowned heavily at him.

"Are you  _kidding_  me? Where was your phone? Don't you know how to pick it?" She all but shouted in his face, her brown eyes panicking slightly.

It took a moment for the anger to flare, but it had been on the edge ever since morning, when he had hit his head on the chair.

"Are you going to TELL ME-?"

"Okay okay, hey there," Jade rushed over, almost flying off the small staircase in a hurry to reach them, "The cash register isn't working. We've tried everything but there's only 15 minutes left so you gotta make some decisions and you gotta be quick about it. People are already lining up."

As he said it, Harry snuck a glance outside and Jade was right, as always, that people were ready for their morning coffees. He need to think, and fast.

"Okay, tell me one of you idiots actually learnt something at school and are quick at math!" Harry exclaimed to the other four, because he knew he himself was shit at it. They exchanged equally blank looks, and Jon didn't even bother looking up from cleaning the espresso machine.

"You  _sodding little-_  why did I even hire you?!" Harry exclaimed to himself - what the bloody hell was he going to do now? There was no time to buy a new entry system, a repair shop was at least half an hour away, and he could't afford even one less hand - opening was the busiest time! Less staff holidays was one reasons he had only hired people who appreciated coffee and the smell of baking and a good working enviornment -  _why_  had he not considered Maths?! What in  _Merlin's_  name was wrong with him?!

Times like these were when he missed Hermione the most, wait -  _what would she do?_

Compartmentalize.

"Okay, I got an idea." Harry began, looking at all four - though Jon wasn't even bothered, "Umm since Clark is in University, he'll suffer as the cashier. I'll take over his tables for today. Jade - you, Caramel and Jon will be the same."

Yeah, that sounded good - Jon was no good at anything else really and Caramel was best, after him, at the cooking. She could safely handle the counter alone today. Hopefully. Now only if he could make sure he didn't screw up the orders -

"And while we start, Jade, clear up some space in the storage and bring down both the chairs from my office." Harry sighed, continuing to talk over Clark's howling protests, "It's going to be a long day."

* * *

"Chaos. This is  _fucking_  chaos." Harry muttered to himself, almost sobbing as his pinkie toe hit an armchair on the way to the order counter.

"IS THIS PAYBACK? I SWEAR BY THE LORD I WILL NOT SET YOU UP EVER AGAIN! SWEET JESUS SPARE ME!"

"You ordered a cappucino with NO ICE CREAM,  _Miss_!"

" _Oh my god._ My fingers are numb what the fuck!"

"Shit! Stay  _away_  from the oven Caramel! That's my area!"

" _Don't_  put that table by the wall, it's for FOUR JADE WHAT THE-"

_"SHUT UP GUYS! SHUT UP! SHUT YOUR SODDING MOUTHS!"_

There was a huge  _crack_  and silence, then the sound of glass crunching. When Harry opened his eyes hesitantly, every single person in the room was staring at him, probably wondering how in all of Merlin's bloody boxers he had managed to pull that off. When he realized what the crack had been for, he understood - had just caused accidental magic - blasted the mirror and probably temporarily silenced everone.  _Well, what a fuck up._

"Okay, Jade, just get her an added ice cream, it was probably my mistake. No need to charge her for anything."

"Clark, yes this is totally payback, but you can change your shift with Caramel. Caramel, you can go to the storage once I'm done with taking these orders. Jon, hang up the closed sign, we need a goddamn  _break_."

"Everyone else, guys, we've had a malfunction this morning, so your co-operation will be very much appreciated. If you find yourself incapable for waiting a bit for your order, please feel free to leave - I'm sorry for the inconvenience. Thanks."

"Also Jade, put the bloody table back."

* * *

It took them an hour, but the crowd soon turned manageable. A few customers had left, but Harry didn't care, as long as it meant that this disaster of a day ended quicker. His patience was running thinner than ever today, all he wanted to do was close shop and go back home to his fireplace and watch some mindless show the whole night. Everyone else could go hang for all he cared today - the day had started bad and went downhill from there. The ache behind his scar had expanded to his whole head and there were bongo drums playing inside.

Even though the closed sign was still up, a few of their choice customers, who knew Harry or were friends with the staff because of regularity, came in to get a coffee and even waited patiently, chatting away with everyone on occassion. While it was a relief to see the unhurried regulars, they also had to send away a few people who had ambled in anyway.

Around afternoon, near lunch time, when the throngs threatened to build up again, Caramel took the liberty to put on some music. She had started with soft melodies, which Jon had changed to metal, and which Clark had turned to Hip-hop just a few moments ago.

The four were grumbling amongst themselves again. In order to avoid a fight, he had to send Caramel away and sit at the cash counter himself. It was a relief to sit down again, but his head was still aching horribly. If this went on, they would have to stay closed for the whole day.

That was when two men walked in, again. Was the clear-cut  _CLOSED_  sign not visible to these dumb fucks?

The shorter of the two men, and younger, came strutting in, his walk reminding him of Malfoy on his first day all those years ago. That alone set off alarm bells in his head.

"I'm sorry we're closed, not taking orders, that means. In case you just misunderstood that large sign hanging outside the door." Harry said irritably as soon as the man was near him. He looked older from this close - early thirties would be Harry's guess - and much, much more familiar as he removed his sunglasses.

"Why? Do you sell toilets?" The man asked in a curious voice, raising a smooth eyebrow as he looked Harry over like he was sizing him up.

"Uh - No. Are you blind or something?" Harry said, staring at the man in confusion. Was he taking the mickey? Because he honestly had no patience for those things today. "There's a sign that said this is a cafe outside too - seriously is your vision comprimised? Do you need eye-treatment? I'm afraid we don't provide that service here either-"

"All right listen here you little shit of a tea cup, I'm in need of a bathroom. A toilet to pee in. Do you have one of those here or do you piss in the coffee?"

How the  _fuck_ \- What the  _hell_  did he mean-

"HOW  _DARE_  YOU-"

"Go upstairs, door on the left, don't mind him, we're having a bad day." Jade's voice hardly penetrated Harry's ringing ears as the short  _git_  disappeared up the staircase, leaving him fumbling with words in anger.

His comment ringing in his ears, Harry took notice of the second man - the taller, bald man who looked more composed and an apologetic expression. He had the air of a serious businessman, someone who knew how to play all his cards successfully and win. This man, like the shorter sod, also looked familiar.

Harry didn't have much time to think about it, as the man was already extending his hand, all the while looking down his nose at Harry.

Harry got an even worse vibe from this man than the shorter one. At least that one hadn't been diplomatic.

"I'm sorry, Tony's been having a rather bad day at work. Hopefully, you can understand the situation. It was an emergency."

He nodded and withdrew his hand at once, opting to stare at the chaos around the room instead, where they were still shouting orders or some other nonsense at each other. The man's behaviour was making Harry even more irritated - just because he had the looks of a rich businessman didn't mean that he had to deal with their shit without retaliating. The man looked a bit disgusted with the size and decor of the place, and his silent and assumed disapproval, more than anything, dropped the idea in Harry's brain.

He excused himself silently as he made a quick exit to the storage, searching, for that...  _Aha_!

Quickly returning to the back of the counter, he poured the vial in a large glass, then set it under the machine. When it filled, he topped it neatly with cream, some sugar, and chocolate syrup. The milk was low fat and almost completely sugar free, so the drink wouldn't cause much damage to the diet.

When it was done, he returned to the counter, where the bald guy was still judging his beloved cafe heavily.

"Sir, this is for your partner. I hope this makes up for any discomfort on our part and lightens his day." Harry said in a flat tone, but with a plastic smile to the tall man. Harry also noticed that the man was actually pretty tall - at least 6 feet. And his face was so familiar... It had something to do with pineapple. But he couldn't remember...

* * *

As soon as Tony was done with his business, he quickly got out of the surprisingly pristine and spacious bathroom and looked around. The room across the door was unlocked and a bit open.

Without thinking, because he never did and didn't need to, Tony pushed open the door, to a small office. The office was smaller than the bathroom? What a freak the owner was.

He could only see one desk, without a chair, and piles of files and papers lying about. All of them looked similar to each other and Tony was sure they were accounts of the place.

Britishers were so weird - who the  _fuck_  had an office without chairs? And this specky idiot - he obviously had no idea what the hell he was doing.

He shrugged and padded down the stairs - there was a door to the right of the stairs - and of course he opened it.

There was a woman, probably in her twenties, sipping coffee, sitting on a chair, in a room otherwise full of boxes and a trunk here and there.

"Huh. Weird." Tony muttered, what was this place supposed to be? It was too homely for a coffee house, too informal for a lounge, and the storage was a restroom and the office didn't have chairs?  _What a fucking mess._

The only thing good about the place was the music -  _Heaven and Hell_  wasn't that bad a choice. It was actually one of his favorite songs.

It was a few moments before he realized that the woman had noticed him, and by the time he did, there was a look of dawning realization on her face that he had come to hate. It symbolized danger for him - a complete invasion of privacy, as it was mostly associated with his fangirls that looked ready to pounce on him him at any point of time and day.

Quickly retracting himself, he shut the door and fumbled for some dollars in his pocket, finally pulling out a twenty. Obi seemed to be in conversation with the weird British too-young-to-own-a-cafe receptionist, but Tony didn't care. He could hear the girl catching up behind him, so he grabbed hold of Obi with one hand, and throwing a look over his shoulder to the staring receptionist, along with the twenty, quickly steered both of them out of the stuffed room.

Only when they were seated safely back in the car, did Obi give him the coffee. And it was only after he had finished drinking the, well, pretty damn  _amazing_  coffee, did he notice the words scrawled in small messy cursive on the cup -

_'Mannerless Fuckwit'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ehehehe What d'ya think?
> 
> Updated according to some pretty legit mistakes Roserayrose pointed out. I would say that Harry's acting a bit OOC. His reasons are just not explained yet. Also, my laptop sort of got corrupted and the whole data on it is gone. :| That included the whole outline and plot of this story too. I just hope it comes back to me sooner or later. Hope for the best guys. Maybe review?


	3. She's Got Two Ears

_**Music Recommendation: Come As You Are By Nirvana** _

* * *

March was always the worst month for Tony. He had to deal with shareholders and their incessant whining over stupid things like annual reports and the like. Even though he had Pepper to deal with these things, Obi made sure he dragged Tony to those nauseatingly boring meetings where everyone sat with a blank expression, a bald head and a stick up their ass.

It was one of the reasons why Tony had left the office as quickly as possible after looking at boring old faces the whole day - not even bothering to take a loo break because someone or the other would run into him and stop him there. So he had to stop on the way back to the mansion - Happy had made sure to stop at a joint that was closed. Tony, however, had not realised that the place was so busy even when it was closed. The kid that didn't look like the owner, but acted like it, looked pretty pissed off when he walked in. But Tony had no time himself to take shit from a British punk, especially one who had just hit his head on God-knows-what to get that huge bump on his forehead with the very specific mark. It was like somebody had tried printing the Flash's symbol on his head.

Anyway, Tony had put the kid out of his mind when they left the small but rad place, until he had read that 'greeting' on the cup. He should have been angry, but surprisingly, he found himself snorting with laughter. Maybe he was finally going insane with all the boredom, but the aggressive action of the  _kid_  had him laughing out loud at his nerve. The guy, apparently then, had some serious nerve to pull that bullshit with him, but it amused Tony because to the Brit he was probably just another rich guy. Well, which he was, but that meant the guy had no time for his shit, and he had made sure he told him that in a very clever way. While normally such things were a huge blow for his ego, that day Tony had needed a laugh. So he put the matter out of his mind, but he did, however, love the coffee.

* * *

It was a good, calm April morning. The sun was high in the sky and it was hot, but not sweaty. The glare reflected off his helmet as Harry removed it and hung it on the handle. The cafe was already alive and kicking, the door was hardly staying closed for a minute, as people entered and left. It was fifteen to eight and Harry knew he was late but he also knew that Caramel wouldn't complain today - it was her fault that he had had such a late night yesterday. She had set him up for a blind date with one of her friends, Tessa, and Harry had only agreed to keep the rest of her band (his staff) happy. He had to endure three hours of a red haired woman batting her eyelashes at him and unnecessarily giggling every time he breathed. He, meanwhile, had been comparing her with Ginny in his head all the while, and had to go through two bottles of firewhiskey to get in a sleep able state. He missed her so much, seeing her at the matches was not enough -

 _No_. He wasn't going to do this to himself. There was ready a deep ache in his chest, it was like something had gone missing, leaving behind a painful emptiness.

Walking through the entrance, he rubbed his chest in the center - why did the hollowness hurt so much? Maybe he  _should_  stop going to her every match -

"Hey Specko. You staying up or down today?" Clark said, passing him with a tray filled with muffins. Harry watched as he served them to a couple in a business attire, who were chatting away amiably, pointing repeatedly to their newspapers, coffee in one hand and a muffin in the other. He vaguely registered that he had seen them before but turned around and went towards the counter.

"I'm gonna head up in some time. Just take the keys." He called to Clark, as Jon and Caramel skipped over, looking excited.

"So? Any success? Did you score?" Jon asked hopefully, and Harry felt a slight blush creep up despite the fact that he was supposed to be a  _grownup_  in those matters now.

"No I didn't. Your friend talks too much." He said to Caramel with a side-smile before settling behind the counter. Jon crept away after making a face, but Caramel frowned at him.

"I thought you had a thing for red heads?" She said, putting her hands on her hips, abandoning the coffee she was making and frowning at him instead.

"That's not true." He said rather quickly, turning away from her as heat crept up his cheeks again. She tutted behind him but said nothing, and Harry's mind went back to Ginny. Maybe he really should stop attending her matches. He almost panicked at the thought itself - who was he kidding? He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he stopped watching her. And watching her - flying especially - it was a delight. Harry's garden was not big enough for him to have a go on his broom, and watching Ginny play Quidditch was probably the only reason he hadn't lost his mind and flown over the city in desperation yet.

"Harry?" He looked up see the another woman who often came to the cafe - Pepper. Another red head, Pepper worked for Tony Stark, who Caramel had later told him was the same sod that had been so rude to him that day. Apparently, Stark liked his coffee, like Harry had made sure he would, and sent his assistant to get more from the same 'small, rad place they had stopped at'.

Pepper was a nice woman, and apparently Stark was not a nice boss - at least he seemed pretty immature from what Harry had gathered from Pepper's rants.

Pepper was one of the only women he felt comfortable talking to - besides Caramel - even though she had the abominable red hair, she reminded him more of Lavender than Ginny. She was very talkative, and social - one of the reasons why he actually knew more than a bit about Tony Stark - and she had a kind heart.

"Hey, morning Pepper!" Harry replied exuberantly, it had been a couple of days since he had seen her. Happy, Stark's driver had come to get all kinds of food for their lazy boss for these last days. Happy liked Harry a lot and always asked the weirdest questions - apparently, because he loved British people. While Happy was fun, and made Harry laugh a lot, it was refreshing to see the woman after long.

"Hi. You looked rather busy there? Deep thinking?" She said, pulling a small settee near his chair (he had no idea how she managed that in heels) and sat on it. She already had a cappuccino, though he didn't remember her ordering it. Or coming inside, for that matter.

"No. Not that deep. How are you though, and where have you been?"

"I've been in London," She said carefully, not taking her eyes off him, "for a conference."

"Oh." Harry replied, his throat suddenly dry, but he resolutely met her gaze, "Do anything interesting?"

"No. Not much anyway. Has he met anyone yet?" She said, turning to Caramel for her question.

"No. It's been two failed dates since you last came, Miss Potts. He finds a new excuse every time. And they're so silly -  _'She's got a round nose, she wore death white, I don't like that colour, she's got two ears'_ -"

Caramel was doing a terrible impression of him, complete with the worst fake British accent he had ever heard. Harry was laughing at the bad impression, and Pepper seemed to be in splits too. "That was a terrible accent Caramel!" She laughed, placing her coffee on the floor to take out a cloth from her purse, "Seriously though - I wonder who it's going to be who catches your eye, Harry. She's going to have to be really amazing."

"Or really simple." Harry countered uncomfortably, getting off his seat and grabbing his jacket from behind his chair. This was his cue to leave.

"Ooh!" Caramel exclaimed to herself, "Nancy! She's not as simple as Christine and not as complex as Janet-"

"Oh no. No way. Even listening to - uh, Jenna? - talk was exhausting, so I need some time to get my energy back." He said, pulling on his jacket and grabbing a register from underneath the counter.

"How much time do you need?" Caramel called as he walked towards the small corridor to the stairs.

"See ya later Pepper. Ask Tony to show his face sometime. If he's got enough balls to do it. And I'll need ten years Caramel. Thanks for asking!"

Ignoring Pepper's ringing laughter and Caramel's groans, Harry climbed the stairs to the office, and slowed down once he had entered the piled up room, closed the door behind him and the noises of the cafe had died down a bit. Stretching a bit, he threw himself on the chair and opened the register at the page to work at. Then he fumbled through his drawer and popped open a packet of sugar quills, deciding to suck on one and rest for a while. He could only do the social scene for a while at much. That mess of a day in March had been a nightmare, and thankfully things had been going a bit less stressful now.

Lazily putting up his feet on the table, his thoughts wandered to Stark. It was surprising how wrong he had been about the man. Before he had met Pepper, all he knew about him was that he was a rich guy who got paid to make weapons and he exploited the fact fully. He had also been on the news for his various lawsuits, filed by girls and women who were apparently after his money, but Harry doubted any of them might be true. And then Pepper had walked in one day, smiling and talkative, and burst his myths about the man.

Tony's parents had died in a car crash. They had actually died in one, not like Harry - who just used it as an excuse to hide the real story. He was not very close to his father either, and had had a pretty much loveless childhood. When Caramel, who had as always been listening in, had exclaimed that Harry was the same and that his parents had died when he was young too - well, he didn't like the look Pepper had given him. He knew at that moment that she considered him a wayward version of her boss.

She hadn't mentioned their childhoods again much - not that it was a huge comfort - but she had only once otherwise mentioned that Tony had some serious commitment issues because of his childhood. She had said that when Caramel had complained about Harry's non-interest in the opposite sex. Or any sex. Harry liked Pepper, she was a woman with a good heart, but she was too observant for her own good. And when she talked, he always accidentally spilled something or the other about his life that he was not supposed to tell - like Justin, who no one was supposed to know about, the fact that he like red heads - that had been spilled because of her too - and also the fact that he hadn't had a loveless life, he had a great family at home. She had quickly retaliated with why he didn't meet them, and he had shut up for his own good. That was the reason he liked Pepper a lot, but couldn't afford to spend much time with her.

In fact, that was the reason he spent rather less time actually talking to his staff too - they were like a bunch of kids who would just run amok in the cafe, doing whatever they liked, if he wasn't there to monitor them. He knew he should have chosen people who were a bit professional, but he couldn't afford someone too nosy - at least the four of them didn't ask him about his personal life. Well, much.

That reminded him, it was mid April and May was almost upon him. Bringing with it the first anniversary since he had left. Last May, he had known what he would do, but he hadn't contemplated how he would handle  _that_  day.

Days passed, and as April came to an end, so did his sleep. He hardly got a wink of sleep before some horrible scene from his past unfolded in front his eyes and his brain went into full panic mode. He was gripped with panic half of the night - scenarios played in his mind, each worse than the other, scenarios where Ron and Hermione were in danger, or Ginny, or George or Luna or Neville, and he didn't help them, because he couldn't hear them. He saw their faces - full of pain and torture, but he couldn't help them because he didn't know, he couldn't hear anything, they never made a sound. The worst, however, was when he saw Teddy.

Because he didn't know what his godson looked like now, his mind still showed him as the eight-year old boy he had last seen. The day he saw Teddy, he didn't sleep for the whole night, and the next one at the cafe was a stressful one. He had been opting to stay upstairs and he could feel the other four's staring and judgmental stares as he said that he wouldn't join them again that day. His anxiety spiked with every step, and as he entered the office, he realized why.

There was an owl tapping at the window.

* * *

"How's the student? Davina? Dorothy? What was it?" Tony said, not looking up from the battery that he had pulled apart that day, as Pepper entered with a light click of heels. That sound told him that it was not a day to mess with her. May was usually not a good month for him - everything got mixed up with his projects - he could never complete one successfully because of the pre summer hassle at the company.

Sure enough, when she walked through, Pepper's hair was coming out in long strands and her face was pinker than normal. He took note of the time. It was only ten in the morning - why did she look so unkept?

"Daisy. And she left before I got here. Nothing's missing, I already checked-"

"What did you do - walk through a hurricane?" He said, raising an eyebrow at her. She made an effort to fix her hair in the glass of the lab, but gave up after like two seconds, turning to him with narrowed eyes.

"It's all your fault - Harry's place wasn't open today and we kept waiting for half an hour because  _you_  don't drink any other coffee without throwing a tantrum-"

"I _do not_  throw a tantrum - and who the hell is Harry?"

"-but he never turned up. It's the guy who owns the coffee place! Now stop trying to distract me-"

"-what am I - 5? And I'm not trying to distract you! What - am I supposed to ignore you not looking perfect like always-"

"What? I don't - what?"

"No I mean you're always prim and proper and today you looked, well, you looked pretty tired for ten in the morning so that's why I asked. Why do you always think that about me-".

"Oh I'm sorry then. If you didn't mean to distract me then let's talk business, Mr. Stark. You have three meetings today-".

He let out a loud groan.  _Why?_

"Why today? I just went to the office yesterday - couldn't this be done yesterday-?"

"It's General Ross - this one's on his terms Mr. Stark-"

"Ross? They found Banner?"

"No, they need to give the report of our sonic cannons they used to  _try_  to capture Banner-"

"Well then if they didn't catch him, what's the point? I'm not gonna meet them -  _you_  get the report-"

"But he's the head- Alright. Fine, I'll do it. After lunch you have a meeting with Hammer Industries-"

"Cancel it. Say I'm ill - tell them I'm dead-"

"It's already been postponed three times, Mr. Stark!-"

"I don't care Pepper the guy's a dick! He's insufferable - I'm not meeting anybody from there until their head changes. Next!"

"..."

"I can see you in the glass' reflection - put the pen down, I love this shirt."

"And you say you're not a five year old! It's better to get this over with than stalling-"

"I said  _NO_. Is there anything else you need from me? I didn't get a coffee so you better have something else or clear my schedule for the whole day-"

"I can't - there's an Opening Ceremony you need to be at 8 in the evening."

"Great, get me coffee from somewhere else or I don't go anywhere. Check the Marauder place in the evening - I'm in need of a muffin too. Or a donut. Or both."

* * *

It was one of the rare times he went to headquarters with Pepper in the same car. The Coupe compromised what it lacked in speed with luxury and style. The only thing that didn't match the mood was Pepper's frown - she had finally dragged him with her today again, what else did she want?

She was looking thoughtfully out her side of the window, so he tapped her with the phone he had been tinkering with.

"What's wrong now? Why are you staring outside all doom and gloom? I'm doing three meetings today that's something to party about."

She smiled lightly but she did not stop looking worried. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. I was just looking out for your Marauder place - it's been three days since we saw Harry."

"Since anybody saw him, really." Happy added from the front, "I saw the blonde guy - Clark, yesterday. He was just hanging about with a few of his friends even though MM was locked. He said none of them had heard from Harry at all. He's not even picking his phone."

That deepened Pepper's frown and she looked even more worried. This guy - Harry - hadn't looked shady but then, he could never be sure until he ran a search.

"You're worrying for nothing Pep. He might just be taking a break from all the hustle. Do any of his friends know where he lives?"

"No Sir. They don't know where he lives - that's why most of them are concerned. He sort of disappeared without notice."

"Huh, weird. Does he have a surname?" Tony asked, typing away on his phone, asking Jarvis to conduct a search on the owner of the the place.

"Uh... I guess he does. But we don't know it." Happy replied, and Pepper crossed her arms, still looking out the window. He didn't like how she was so unusually worried for this guy.

There were hundreds of Harrys in the restaurant business and Tony didn't even remember the guy's face very well. He decided not to ask either of the other two occupants of the car, because he was sure they wouldn't take well to his little search beyond the normal boundaries for this guy.

"Maybe he went to visit his family." Pepper said quietly, biting her lips.

"What - the family in Britain? He never mentioned them to me - he said he had a few friends back there, no family since his parents are dead." Happy said with a frown, and Pepper nodded.

"Yeah he avoids that topic like the plague. It's a surprise I even got that much from him." Pepper said, looking meaningfully at him.

 _Huh._  So  _that's_  why Pepper was so concerned with him. He would have to meet this Harry and warn him about Pepper now. Meanwhile, he needed to draw them away from that topic.

"I want a cheeseburger." He said flatly, in an obvious attempt to change the topic, though he wasn't sure it worked as he definitely saw Pepper rolling her eyes in hindsight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? Verdict? Are we curious what happened? I'm sure you guys can make a very good and near educated guess. It's not that difficult. Come on, pitch in!

**Author's Note:**

> Here are some pictures to help y'all visualize the places we don't already have visuals for:
> 
> The Cafe - Maraudering Matters: 
> 
> http://s3files.core77.com/blog/images/417775_252_47984_cHMo3BtX_.jpg (Except there's a door by that bookshelf and the furniture is more uncordinated)
> 
> http://www.viennawurstelstand.com/images/slideshow/viennacoffee/10/fuerthkaffee_03.jpg (Minus the ladder and upper area) 
> 
> [I don't own these images. Or the character and everything, you know the drill.]


End file.
